Help Will Always Be Given
by ElAmorComienza
Summary: DH MissingScene - 'She has been through a lot. And as I can easily predict, there are more to come. But I know Ginny Weasley can cope with anything. Because she’s a fighter.' M for almost rape-Normally T...
1. Dark and Empty

**A/N:**This is sth that flew at my mind and I just couldn't rest till finishing it…

It takes place at Hogwarts, during DH, probably at around February or the dawn of March…Well, that was poetic…*flashback-crazyness –and-overly-HP-nerdness*  "…born as the seventh month dies…" XD

Anyway, I tried a new way of writing in this story, only because it's short, and I couldn't get bored of it XD, or not to ruin another big story as it's the first time I write from a character's POV completely…I bet four sickles that I puzzled you…Anyway…

oh, and sth else…If you notice, in this chapter I have one character taling with "well, well.".. Well, that's because I find this particular phrase fairly evil…You'll find out…:D

**Chap 1****- Dark and Empty**

'Bloody, idiotic, evil Slytherin moron! How could he do this to me?!'

I stop running and fold at my middle, leaning with my hand onto the wall for support as I try to catch my breath. That Goyle boy was unbelievable! Make me clean up the mess HE had created and now I'm late. Late for Mugglology. Well, at least what used to be called Mugglology.

I stand straight and start running once again through the dark, empty corridors. So familiar and so changed at the same time. No longer cheery students chatting here and there. No pranks, no laughs, no chit-chat on the corners or snogging behind the tapestries.

Those were all long gone.

Now, at the corridors you can see only scared, darkened, injured faces, running to get a shelter from the danger that could be behind every door or corner. Death Eaters' sons and daughters walking around like they owned the place. Kids being cursed or crusiated. First years –and not only- hiding behind the tapestries. Even the portraits were silenced. Fear and darkness ans injustice and pain. And the bloody fucking Carrows hexing everyone they saw.

By now, the castle's corridors were empty and my steps are echoing. It's raining outside at the park. As usual for such a month. We had snow for a couple of weeks. Pretty inconvenient. They could trace our footprints and find us. Thank Merlin this valid only outside, on the grounds.

The unhealed wood on my arm aches, cutting my train of thoughts, and I winch but keep running.

I know well enough what Cow Carrow will do to me –or to be realistic- is going to do to me, now I'm late. Shit. Run Ginny, run.

I must go, even if I face punishment. But as I speed up, pushing my self to fly, considering I'm only two staircases and a hallway away, a figure turned the corner and I freeze on my heels. No need to earn other wounds or bruises. Or both. I've got enough for now.

"Well, look what we've got here. Little Weasley." Zabini keeps walking steadily towards me, and despite the distance, I can fairly recognize his smug smirk.

"I'm not little." I say through my teeth, clenching my hands so tightly that my knuckles are probably white. 'Just remember. No more wounds.' I repeat my self mentally over and over, as he keeps closuring me.

I have three choices.

Play nice and he'll probably let me go.

Start running and probably get hexed.

Or just step up and face him, as I'd have done some years, maybe months before, and still get hexed.

Sure, this is what I'd have done before. Before all this hell began. Some people think we are protected here. Having a bed to sleep, a warm plate of food and a shelter from the pain and despair that heavies the air through the whole country.

But seeing it from another point of view, it's no better. Not when you can't lie down on your bed because you're bruised all over or you lie down because you can't stand at your feet. Not when you must check your food every time for lethal poisons. Not when all you can think at night is that a bastard could sneak in and kill you or maybe even worse.

Yeah. Ginevra Molly Weasley thinking in that weak and pessimistic way. But you know, people change.

And yeah, me, a Gryffindor, I choose to slither out of it. I'll play nice. But well, he has to do so too.

"What are you doing here, Weasley?" he arrogantly demands.

"People usually walk at corridors." I snap back, unable to hold my tongue at his tone.

"I mean what you are doing outside of class, Weasley." he is now in front of me, towering me balefully. No. I won't step back. As dangerous as he is right now, I can't display weakness. I'm stronger than this. He has a wand but so do I. And although he has the authority to use it, I have the power to bit him. Fury is growing slowly more and more into me at the sight of him, looking at me like that.

As I move my hand slowly into my pocket, he keeps talking. "And I thought your mind actually worked, but it seems you're only another slut that -" He's unable to finish cause I just slapped him.

Blinded by fury I wasn't master of my hand. With its own will it defended my honor.

Stupid action.

Because before I could reach for my wand again he flicks his and disarms me with an evil smugly smirk on his face. I'm not fast enough to catch the flying wand and sensing the danger I stand still. He steps closer and leans in as I stare somewhere behind him.

No. I won't give him the pleasure of the bewilder in my eyes.

"Well, well." he continues to smirk evilly. "Little slut likes violence. We can do something about that." he points out and grabs my waist, pulling me toughly on him.

There's no margin to try to be nice and quiet.

I know where this could lead, and there's no way I can let it happen. I clench my fists and attack him. Everywhere I can reach him, his chest, ribs, stomach, even his face. But it seems I'm not strong enough. He spins me around and my back hits the cold stone of the wall with a awful sound as he pushes me onto it.

And as he throws away both our wands, I can't help but terrify at the fact that's he's absolutely sure he doesn't need a wand to manage me off.

Every shell of my brain screams at me to scream for help, coming from my most survival instincts, but I know I shouldn't.

There's no help in that. No one would be allowed out of class, no one would want to take me from here and face the consequences, and I don't want to put those who would face all those shits for me in danger.

I am all alone.

But I'm strong enough. I can deal with it.

An evil laugh reaches my ears, bringing me back to reality. He still has me pinned up against the wall, his one hand holding my jaw still, while the other has reached beneath my shirt, pressing on my stomach.

His touch is cold and nauseating, as my stomach twists in disguise under his fingers.

"So, tell me Weasley." his hand creeping dangerously upwards. "Have that bloody Potter fucked the hell out of you?" I close my eyes, not only at the implication that lies behind the question, not only to avoid showing my angry tears, or don't wanting to face that bastard for the next of my life, but at the mention of him.

Before those emerald eyes freeze my mind completely, taking one last breath, I curl back on the wall and jump at him, shove him down, making him hit his head on the cold stone as I try to get to my wand.

Insult HIM in front of me and you're dead as in front of the eyes of the Basilisk.

I'm almost there, reaching my hand to grab my only defense, as I feel a sharp pain on my ankle. That very same ankle I had totally broken into pieces at the Department of Mysteries, two years ago. It still arched when I got it tired or push it, but this pain was beyond any of that insignificant hurt.

He has grabbed it to pull me towards him. We're still on the floor fighting like a lion as I try to escape from his gasp and my ankle hurts so much that I feel faint.

And of course he's stronger than me. Pulling e even closer, away from my wand, he dizzily crawls over and glues me down with his hands, leaning over, trying to bring his lips on mine.

Gathering momentum I slam his head with my forehead but he still has hold of me.

Now, after my defending sessions, he seems more furious and uncontrolled. As my head spins and my ankle is killing me, I feel him tugging roughly on my shirt, ripping it off, getting access to my chest.

I close my eyes, unable to stand watching his pleasure over my fear and anger and disguise. His filth hands are on me, and I'm pretty sure I can't go through this. Fighting him off like a mad with my hands and my good leg only gets me his hand over both of mine, holding them over my head.

Disarmed and undefending, I feel him press his lower body on mine and I squirm in the need to throw up the contains of my stomach once gain.

He laughs at my reaction and his free hand creeps down my waist till the hem of my skirt and my eyes open wide as it keeps moving upwards inside of the dark fabric.

Involuntarily and instinctively, I scream.

I screech and fights and scuffle with any strength that I still have in me, screaming my lungs out for help.

I don't care if it's useless.

I must do whatever it's up to me.

He tries to control me, but as I keep struggling like a loony, he slaps me hard and I almost go numb as my head spins and I don't know where is up or down, not finding my voice anymore.

But before I could welcome darkness completely, I hear –like through a lot of water- a familiar voice screaming my name from far away, and with my last source of power I turn my head, I can recognize a hint of blond before I give in unwillingly into the darkness, where I can't defend my self anymore.

**A/N:**Well, well…Cookie at those who have guessed well about who this blondie is, and double cookie to those who review…

Love you all. Take care. Smile like there's no tomorrow…

[I'm trying to find a phrase to end up with at every single chapter, cause I think it's really cool…If you have any ideas, let me know…]


	2. Taking Good Care of Her

A/N: Ok, this is chapter two, sorry for delaying…

You may find spell mistakes or funny words in here, simply because I'm writing on my dad's lap top and it has the most freaking small and delicate keyword I've ever seen… So, either ignore them, or point them out to me to fix them…Especially if they are "killing" a sentence or the meaning of a paragraph… Thanks…

Oh, why the hel are you wasting time with my stupid bubbling?! Go find out who the blondie is! XD

**Chap 2 ****– Taking Good Care of Her**

All I can think is that I'm dizzy. I can't find my eyes to open and there's a hard earthquake beneath me. I feel only pain.

On my head, my arm, my back, my thigh, my ankle.

Pain and the ground shaking.

But is this the ground? It's kinda soft and cool, not freezy and hard as the floor. Maybe it's not the ground. I try to hear what's happening, still not finding my eyes, but the only sound that reaches my ears is a quickened low air blowing and an unsteady stamping. Is someone running? I'm starting to get back the awareness of my surroundings.

I slowly open my eyes, wasting my power, blinking a lot of times before I realize the jaw above my face is Neville's and a couple of moments to apprehend that he's the one running, carrying me into his arms. But he's so cold. Unable to even open my mouth to speak, my weakness overtakes my senses and my eyes close unwillingly again.

***~*~*~*~***

When I find the strength to open them again, my head still spins but, thank Merlin, not so much. It takes me some moments to get aware of my surroundings, as I shift my weight to get a better view.

I am comfortably placed on an armchair by a small fire. The room is oddly familiar. Red with hints of gold. A lion is roaring on the wall's tapestry. Sunny, spacey, disserted. My common room. Our common room.

I sift more, turning my head to search for my friend, and I find him staring out of the nearby window.

I gather strength and focus on standing up, but I can't control my ankle. A painful moan escapes my lips before I have the chance to swallow it, and it draws his attention, and with quick moves he reaches me and pushes me back.

"Ginny, are you okay?" I nod as a response, weak for a voice now, and try standing up again to prove him he has nothing to worry about.

"Lay down, you stubborn." he pushes me down once again. My leg is shore and my head starts to spin wildly by my sudden moves, and I put my palm on my forehead rubbing it slightly, not only dying to ease the pain, but to solve my frustration too.

My thoughts are unclear and puzzled up. I open my mouth to ask how long have I been unconscious, but he speaks first.

"I've tried to heal it, but I'm not the best in those things." he shrugged and took a sit on the sofa, nearby. "However, I've appended some Essence of Dittany on your other wounds… . Ginny, what have happened to your arm? It was pretty nasty"

"It's nothing, just - " I mumble and instinctively rub the wooden part of my arm, only no to find it there. I lift the sleeve of the Gryffindor jumper that keeps me warm to find it nearly healed, like it was weeks old.

But besides my surprise about the wood, I only now pay real attention to the jumper. It's a lot larger than my frame and the sleeves are longer, as the outline reaches my ass.

Only then I realize he's wearing only his sleeveless shirt, a bit of blood on it, rubbing his arms with his palms at an attempt to get warm.

"Is that your - " I whisper, surprised to have found the way to my voice eventually.

"Do you think I'd carry you half naked back here? No Gin, we do have some dignity left on, whatever they think."

True. I look down and to my horror, I can vividly remember Zabini ripping off my shirt. The sound of fabric being slashed , the flash of sicken pleasure in his eyes before I could turn away mine, the sound of his evilly toned laugh. I shudder hard and wrap my arms around me, cringing at the sit.

Well, thanks." I almost fake a smile. "You said you carried me here?"

"Yeah. I'd take you to the Infirmary, cause I thought you were pretty bad, but they'd come in." he says, pacing in front of me. "Then I considered the Rom of Requirement but Gryffindor tower was nearer. They can't get in here." he seemed calm, but very serious and distant, as well as skeptic as he sits slowly on the couch and can't hide a wince. I know how bad are his bruised ribs.

I feel safe now that I'm with my best friend, but what if we are both in trouble? What if I managed to earn him a bloody detention too –and bloody is literal in this place.

"Are you sure?" I don't think I can take another encounter with those filths second time this day.

"They need the password. Well, there's always the chance they'll torture some kid to tell them,. Then you can go up to the girls' dormitories. They can't reach you there." he says and I can not help but notice the unmentioning of himself in the safety of the backup plan.

"I wanna stay here." and with a moment of focus I'm finally able to stand up, cumbering my weight on my good foot, taking a few uncertain hoops towards the couch he sat minutes before and drop myself by him.

He hugs me by my shoulder with one hand, getting me closer, probably sensing my need not to be alone. Or he's just trying to upgrade his body temperature, getting advance of the warm jumper. You never know with Neville.

"Did he do something to you?" he breaks the comfortable silence first, after a couple of minutes.

What do you mean by something?" I'm not sure if I can have this conversation right now. Neville can't have details. I unable to repeat everything that bastard did to me, and I'm pretty sure he'd do something stupid if he knew.

"Your shirt was ripped, your head hit, your skirt pulled up…" he trailed off, disguise and repugnance passing through his face.

"Don't worry. He didn't go far." I try to keep my voice cool, hiding the terrible emotions at the thought how awful it must have seem. "You stopped him." I cuddle more into him, needing to get rid of this day. His touch, his voice, his gaze, his attitude are haunting me, playing again and again behind my eyes. But I have to ask. "How did you found us? You were supposed to be in class."

"I was, but someone coined me that you weren't in class, and it was past half-hour the lesson period had started. I was worried, so I faked a bleeding nose and got out of class. McGonagall would let me go anyway, but we had co-teaching with Slytherin."

"Bleeding nose?" I interrupt him.

"Merlin bless your brothers. They've sent me a great stock before the start of the year, among with a note."

I raised my eyebrow, unable to think the hilarity of the note Fred and George had composed, assuming they were teasing Neville about losing Trevor or loving Herbology, or being sloppy and scatter-brain, but the answer to my unspoken question surprises me.

"Take good care of her." he says and smiles down at me. "They love you more than you can imagine, Gin." I turn my gaze on the floor o hide my wet eyes. I love them too. All of them. In ways I can't bare when I'm far. Especially now, that they are all in danger. Now that we are all in danger. Grave danger.

And I don't have the slightest idea whether the twins had told anyone else about their 'gift' nor how Neville had gotten it into the castle. And this particular moment, I don't even care. Because it's so helpful to know you have someone near or far, I don't mind. There is indeed difference, but just the thought of people caring and watching over you makes me calm. That's what family is.

"I wish I had siblings too." He signs lowly over my head, interrupting my train of thought and I can't help but smile. I stand straight to have eye contact, opening my mouth to reply, but he cuts me off.

"On the other hand, sometimes I think it's better that way. I don't have to worry over my family too. Well, I have grandma, but I'm pretty sure she can handle anything."

"Trust me Neville, there's no comparison to the feeling of a big family, even with the constant fear of losing them. And despite them all, I have non-blood family to worry over too." I gesture at his chest.

"Of course you are." he squeezes my shoulder, a small but warm and content smile breaking the seriousness of his face.

"Thanks for taking me out of hell." I kiss him on the cheek but before I can continue I let out a huge yawn, which I unsuccessfully try to hide. "How did you manage Zabini off, anyway?"

"I doesn't matter what I did, only that you're here now. And you should get some sleep. Seriously Gin, with the DA patrolling last night you must have taken zero snoring." he recommends, pushing me up, turning my body to head at the staircase to the girls' dorms.

"I don't snore!" I protest. "And, Neville, I - "

"I'm hearing nothing Weasley. I have to keep you alive." the words had slip from his mouth, and he stopped in his trunks regretfully.

"Sorry about that."

"No problem." I reply, trying hard to make my voice cool and sooth, but I think he can tell the pain and anxiety behind it. It's Neville after all.

"Neville…" I trail off, afraid to be the alone right now. "I can't go upstairs. I don't want to. May I sleep here?" I hope he gets that I need a friend now, that I want him to have an eye on me, that I need to be with someone trustworthy.

He nods mutely, of course understanding what I want and flicks his wand at the way of the boys' dormitories, only to another jumper and two blankets to fly at him. He hands me the one and gives me a brief hug, whispering. "We'll go through it Ginny. I'll be right here." He lets go off me, and as I nod, I don't think there's anything more to say.

So, I settle down on the couch, covering my self with the red blanket. Neville was now passing his head trough the levitated jumper. He probably had frozen to death till now, and still hadn't complained one bit. As my eyes are heaving from the warmth, the events of the day and probably Neville's spells on my harmed areas I watch him take a sit on the armchair I had been preoccupying earlier, picking out his wand for vigilance and opening a book he found, there covered on his own blanket he picks carrying, brotherly peeks on me, to make sure I'm fine. And as I drift to sleep, I can' help but wonder at his marvellous change Neville had since I first met him.

And I find kind of weird and funny how that short, blond, clumsy, pink cheeked shy boy with the always missing frog not only is now the person I trust my life at against Death Eaters, but I am sure he is definitely the best at doing it. My protector, another big brother.

Strange really, I think as my eyes are closing peacefully, how different we are, but we form such a great team. Because that's all that had left us. One another.

Neville's POV

And I sit there, watching her drift off and my eyes can't help but wonder on her wounds and bruises and scars.

Something so small and seemingly breakable was proving that girls are tough.

After she was nearly rapped, and I shudder in the word only, I was expecting at least an outburst of tears, red-rimmed eyes and numb expression, but she got over it. Thank Gods. I don't know what the Merlin could happen if never managed to find them.

And although Zabini is probably conscious by now and wants to rip the hell out of me, I can cope with it. But I'd never could handle a broken Ginny, because simply Ginny doesn't break.

She's the one who supports, encourages and cheering us, and now with Luna gone – my heart aches at even thinking the word "kidnapped" – she's the only family I'm left here.

And my eyes fall at her scars once more. Arms, legs, face, hands, even collarbone. She's totally hurt. Scars and scars and scars. I wish I could take them away, take them with me, on me.

Because they don't match her. Don't match neither her body nor her face. Those two should be young and healthy and happy and Merlin knows what.

She shouldn't be covered with wounds at her best age.

But then, I think, you ether accept the wounds and pain or make decisions that would leave you no years to compare with the current ones.

But again, it's not right she's here. I watch her calm, content face and I can't help but dream we're all together at the peaceful Hogwarts grounds or at my house, o the Burrow, or even Diagon Alley, yelling and singing and dancing and joking and dreaming and laughing as every teen should do.

I imagine the three of them are back, and that Luna is safe and sound and counts the narggles.

Because this is how it should have been.

I sigh, recognising there's no point of doing extremely impossible day-dreaming, especially in these times, and I peek over to confirm Ginny's current status.

Oh, yes. We made a choice. We chose to fight and now all we have to do is fulfil that goal.

And about Ginny, I'm sure she'll do so. And I'm sure I'll stand beside her.

She has been through a lot. And as I can easily predict, there are more to come. But know Ginny Weasley can cope with anything. Because she's a fighter.

A/N: That's it…

Find me someone in Ginny's year that was in Dumbledore's Army, or at least could have joined later, cause they are all in Harry's year or up…Gimme a name and you'll have loads of cookies…

oh, and help my improve the chap title, btw…Drop ideas freely…

Do you hear that? Oh, yeah… The green button is totally calling you… "Push me! Push Me!"


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